


Sustenance

by apparitionism



Series: Boone, et cetera [4]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Timeline, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 15:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3574931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apparitionism/pseuds/apparitionism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This short (yet, I hope, sweet) piece takes place in the same timeline as "Together," in which non-Warehouse Myka teaches 2nd grade and amnesiac high school literature teacher Emily Lake is her hot girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sustenance

Myka calls home. (Home, she still thrills, is where Emily will answer the phone.) “Guess what? My last two conferences cancelled! I’ll be there in half an hour,” she says.

“No!” Emily says. “You can’t! There’s… a surprise!”

She sounds harried, and Myka asks, now with a bit of worry, “You’re okay, right?”

Emily: “I’m fine be home at six I love you bye!”

At six, Emily welcomes Myka glumly into the kitchen and shows her a takeout pizza in the middle of the table.

“That’s the surprise?” Myka asks carefully.

“Of course not!” Emily says. She opens the oven. “ _That_ was the surprise.”

A wave of smoky vapor hits Myka’s nostrils, and she coughs. “You wanted to surprise me with”—she peeks inside, her eyes watering—“hockey pucks?”

“Samosas,” Emily groans.

“They look a lot like hockey pucks,” Myka says. “I mean, I don’t have a ton of up-close _experience_ with hockey pucks, but I—”

“Do you really need to say ‘hockey pucks’ again?” Emily asks her. “I feel bad enough already; I made you drive around town for hours, and what do you get at the end of it? The same dinner we have at least four nights a week.”

“What do I get at the end of it?” Myka asks. She closes the oven door on the hockey pucks. (She will never again see a hockey puck without thinking of burned samosas. Conversely, she will never see a samosa, even a perfectly cooked one, without thinking of hockey.) She turns to Emily, pulls her into her arms, and kisses her. “I get you. I get you, _plus_ I get the fact that you keep trying to cook even when I’ve given it up as impossible. I get everything I ever wanted in the entire world.”

“And pizza,” Emily says. “Don’t forget the pizza.”

“Hm,” Myka says, kissing up her neck from shoulder to earlobe. “Suddenly I’m not hungry anymore. All that driving. I’m so tired. I think it might be time for bed.”

Emily laughs, reaches over to the table, and closes the pizza box. She starts unbuttoning Myka’s shirt, kissing her way down Myka’s chest. “Bed? Really? Well, you’d better find your pajamas then.”

“I think I might have misplaced them,” Myka says. She returns the unbuttoning favor on Emily’s blouse.

“That’s a shame,” Emily tries to say, though she’s starting to breathe erratically. “What could you… possibly do with… nothing to… sleep in?”

“Play hockey?” Myka suggests. “We’ve got all this… equipment.”

Emily smacks her on the arm and smirks. Myka kisses the smirk; it dissolves on contact.

****

Late that night, Emily is asleep. She even sleeps adorably, Myka thinks; she curls up against Myka, but her hair goes everywhere. Myka’s arm and shoulder are falling asleep too; she could shift, but why would she? It would disturb Emily. She is breathing in and out against Myka’s neck, warmly, unconsciously. And Myka feels something with which she is finding herself increasingly, blessedly familiar: full. Full of love.

END


End file.
